Can You Carry A Tune?
by Hoodoo
Summary: How, exactly, did B.A. get roped into this?  A karaoke bar, seriously?
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimer: no recognizable characters are mine. Drat.

Note: I apologize that I'm all over the place with this story arc. No matter what _I_ may want, my muse doesn't operate in a linear fashion. So, to make it easier for everyone and anyone who's been so very, very kind as to read these, I've put a list of the order these A-Team stories ought to go on my profile page. It's for reference (yours), and for sanity (mine). I of course appreciate and adore all of you! :)

xooxxo

Enjoy!

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><p>Angel asked often enough, even after he repeatedly turned down her invitations. It wasn't ever his scene. Even if he did have to put up with it occasionally for a job, he never enjoyed it.<p>

He didn't like alcohol, and someone always wanted to pick a fight. He didn't need to go looking for something like that on his off time, when fights were picked all through his professional life.

He was glad she continued to go, however, even through his refusals.

She apparently had a regular place and night to go, because every time they were in town she went. Occasionally if there was enough notice and the team was afforded a small break from work, Murdock and Face accompanied her.

B.A. figured Face went because it seemed to be his natural habitat, and Murdock because the fool was attracted to bright shiny things like a damn crow.

They always came back to her place laughing and joking, and maybe a little bit drunk. Even Face came back happy, whether or not he'd picked up a girl.

B.A. thought the whole thing over. Angel was great—she never complained they didn't have a 'normal' relationship, she understood the clandestine nature the team had to keep, and she supported him anyway she could. She gave them Intel when they needed it, and offered technical help when asked.

If there was down time between gigs and he was lucky enough to spend it at her place, she sat with him and watched football or boxing or whatever sporting event he wanted to just mindlessly relax. She listened to him rattle on about cars, vans, motorcycles, the mechanics behind blah blah blah . . . she told him once that she didn't understand any of the vehicular jargon. When he asked why she let him go on and on about it, she said that she just liked that he liked it.

B.A. shook his head and didn't understand her logic.

Angel did all of that in support, and because he turned her down once again to spend an evening watching TV or tinkering around in the van instead of going with her, he was starting to feel like a dick.

He didn't want to be one of _those_ boyfriends. So even though she'd accepted his refusal with a smile and a kiss, B.A. called after her as she made her way to the door where Murdock and Face were waiting.

"Angel, baby—wait up a minute."


	2. Chapter 2

And that's how he ended up in a karaoke bar with his girlfriend and two teammates.

It was a mistake.

Number one: he had grossly underestimated what constituted appropriate attire. He should have known, but then again Face always looked GQ, and Angel occasionally dressed a little more provocatively than he thought was suitable. He figured her working in sweats and t-shirts from home gave her license to doll up when she left the house, and her outfit tonight reflected that: a cherry red corset with a lacy black trim and tight black velvet pants. She wore heels too, although the three of them still towered over her.

Maybe he should have been tipped off by Murdock wearing a button down shirt and not a gaudy Hawaiian thing or t-shirt with a pop culture reference on it. But he hadn't noticed, and now felt out of place in jeans and his own simple vee-neck.

Number two: he wasn't getting the typical bar vibe that someone was going to try and break a chair over his back; he was getting the vibe that everyone was going to hold hands and break into an inexplicable spontaneous dance number. This karaoke thing was hardcore.

B.A. tried to keep back and maneuver the group to a table further away from the stage. He wasn't successful. Apparently Angel had a regular spot: a table near the stage. _Center_ stage. She, Face and Murdock wound their way through the crowd to get to it.

When it was discovered that the table only had three chairs, Angel insisted B.A. take hers—_center_ of the table,_ center_ stage—while she called for another one. B.A. sat gingerly on the rickety wooden chair between Murdock and Face.

A man wearing a tight white shirt and a matching feather boa brought a chair to the table.

"Angel, sugar—you look delicious!" he cooed, and Angel smiled broadly and flounced a little as she moved next to him. The two kissed each other's opposite cheeks, European-style.

"Hi Sunny!" she replied. "Thanks!"

"That corset is spectacular!" he continued, turning her on her heel to see the back. "Look at the boning detail! And those satin ribbons! Did you get this from Luka? He does such fine work!"

She nodded, and tugged a little on the front of it.

"Don't tug at it, sugar, it's perfect just the way it is," Sunny admonished.

He finally glanced over the rest of the table. His gaze leisurely took in B.A. "You've brought someone new! How fun is that!"

B.A. was torn—he felt like he should get up and get this fool away from his girlfriend, but with the oddly appreciative look in the man's eyes, he thought maybe he should just get the fool away. Period.

Murdock sensed his growing tension, and put a hand on his forearm. "Relax, Bosco," he advised quietly, leaning in close to the black man's ear.

B.A. caught the man watching the two of them with a slight, knowing smile on his face and he pulled away from the pilot. He didn't need anyone getting any weird ideas about him and Murdock, and his gut was telling him that the rumors weren't going to be about how they both had Army Ranger tattoos. Well, maybe they would be, but that would make it all the worse.

To his horror, Murdock moved sinuously with him. "Sunny's no threat. Just watch."

Angel was introducing B.A. to him, and Murdock picked up a hand to say hello, but Sunny's gaze settled on Face. Although he'd been animated before, he truly lit up as he caught Face's eye.

"Templeton! It's so nice to see you again!"

Face obligingly got up, and B.A. watched with fascinated distaste as the two men kissed cheeks just like Angel and he had done.

"You let me know if you need anything, handsome," Sunny told Face directly, in a stage whisper. He put a hand on Face's chest. "Anything at all."

With a wink, Sunny left.

Face helped Angel with her chair, then sat back down. He was surprised at B.A.'s expression.

"See?" Murdock asked. "You don't have to worry about Sunny tryin' to get into Angel's pants, B.A. Now, if you want to defend Face's honor . . ."

"How'd you put up with that, man? Why?" B.A. asked Face incredulously.

"What? Sunny?" Face replied dismissively. "He's a nice guy. Just not my type. He's way too effeminate . . . I go for much more manly men."

Everybody laughed. B.A. chuckled a little too and sat back more relaxed. That was a pretty good joke.

"Drinks?" Murdock asked around the table.

If there was ever a time to voluntarily get drunk . . .

"I suppose whatever they have on tap," B.A. said with defeat.

The other three gave each other surprised glances.

"You want booze?"

"What the hell else am I getting in a bar?"

Murdock shrugged. "I get iced tea. Or water. Virgin pina colada. Milk."

"Milk?"

"If they can make a White Russian, they can give you milk."

Satisfied, B.A. nodded. No one else took as long to decide what they wanted, and not being able to flag a waitress's attention, Murdock wandered toward the bar to order.

Although Angel and Face seemed most interested in watching and gossiping about the other patrons, B.A. was more intrigued by the mechanical technicians finishing the sound system set up.

Sunny showed up again, helping Murdock carry the drinks.

"You got me on the list?" Angel asked him.

"Sugar, like I would leave you off the list!" he told her with a wave of his hand. "What about you fellas?"

Both Face and Murdock politely declined; B.A. wasn't quite sure what 'the list' was but gave Sunny an icy stare. Angel watched him glare as hard as he could at the other man, who only smiled brightly back. His lack of reaction seemed to be as irritating to B.A. as when Murdock did it. Angel smothered a giggle.

"Sunny . . ." she said suddenly, as if realizing something.

"What is it, sugar?"

"You know that piece I've been working on? I think I'm ready tonight."

Sunny bit his lower lip and smiled through it, throwing another glance B.A.'s way. The black man got the impression there was a joke he wasn't privy to, and he frowned.

"Oh honey . . . I think that's a grand idea."

Angel smiled prettily.

"Do you want it in place of your typical slot?"

She looked dramatically taken aback. "Oh no! I want another!"

Sunny winked. "I'll see what I can do."

He smiled around the table to the others again, scrunched his fingers in a little wave to Face, and left to talk to one of the technicians scheduling the play list.

Angel raised her drink for a toast; the men copied her. All four glasses were different, which she pointed out and laughed at. They tinked them together as Murdock overtook her toast and started into a drawn out, rambling speech that seem to have less to do with good friends and good cheer and more to do about the literal price of tea in China. B.A. forced Face to trade him seats.


	3. Chapter 3

He tried to have an actual conversation with Angel about what to expect; unfortunately, in this area he found this place was just like most other rowdy bars. It was difficult to participate in back and forth dialogue when everyone else was getting wound up. Maybe if he'd been able to sequester her in a private corner somewhere . . .

No chance of that happening. She was where she wanted to be.

It wasn't much longer before the technicians were done. Sunny appeared on the stage to much clapping and cat-calls; B.A. hadn't explicitly figured it out but now was sure he was the owner of the place.

"Ladies and gentlemen and transgenders and ambisexuals!" he greeted into the microphone. More clapping and whoops came with his announcement; B.A. wasn't sure he wanted to try and figure out that last noun. "Welcome to another night of singing and sinning, hot women and hotter men!"

B.A. glanced at Face, who raised a smug eyebrow and smirked at him.

"We've got a great line-up tonight! Some familiar faces, some brand-spanking new virgins—"

Sunny stared directly at B.A. with that last bit; B.A. would have shrunk in his chair if it wasn't for Angel squeezing his leg and Murdock reaching across the table to clap him affectionately on the shoulder.

"—so to be atrociously cliché: let's get this party started!"

The place erupted with cheering.

Sunny handed the mike off to a similarly dressed man, the music was booted up, and the show began.

B.A. had never been to a karaoke bar before, so he didn't know if what he was watching was typical. Most of the people singing were borderline okay. There were minimal technical difficulties. The songs ranged from country to pop to oldies.

The audience wasn't the typical rude, rowdy group B.A. associated with drunks in bars either. They did continue to have their own conversations while people sang, and laughed with the people they were with, and got up for more drinks, so it wasn't like an actual concert where patrons paid a majority of attention to the performer, but they were polite.

Everyone got a round of applause, especially if they were familiar faces or nervous.

A few participants were, like Angel, obviously regulars. They tended to be above average in the vocal department, and B.A. realized that although he knew his girlfriend frequently sang karaoke, he didn't know what her voice was like. She didn't sing around her house. As harrowing as the first part of this excursion had been, he found himself a little excited to hear her on stage.

For the regulars, there were also some minor lighting effects. Sunny clearly catered to the folks who spent a lot of time in his establishment, because he fussed over them just as he had over Angel.

Angel and Murdock sipped their drinks and put their heads together occasionally to discuss the performers. She routinely found B.A.'s knee under the table, and Face left and came back with another round of drinks. It slipped into an easy camaraderie.

Face picked up on B.A.'s more relaxed demeanor. The black man saw him notice.

"Why do you come here, man?"

Face shrugged and smiled. "Sometimes to pick someone up, of course. But I can do that in any bar. I come here because it's fun. It's okay to just have fun sometimes, you know."

B.A. replied with a half smile.

"Ooo—I'm up next!" Angel squealed.

B.A. didn't know how she knew, but Murdock apparently did, because he directed his gaze at the side of the stage and said,

"I didn't know you were doing _that _song! I want to sing it with you! But I told Sunny I wasn't going to do anything—!"

"Relax," she told him dismissively. "It's my song, Murdock. It'd be cool if you joined me. Sunny won't care. I just have to make sure they put up another microphone . . ."

Angel turned in her chair to locate and catch the attention of one of the techs. The man hurried over, crouching so he wasn't blocking people's view of the stage, and she spoke into his ear to request another mike be set up for her number. He nodded, and crouch-walked away.

"See? No problem. You have to sing the second part though. The back up."

Murdock exuded glee as he nodded. Now he was fidgety in his chair.

B.A. suppressed a groan. He was familiar with Murdock's voice and singing; the damn fool barely shut up most times with his on-the-spot made up songs and commercial jingles that looped around forever. But Angel was getting up—Murdock bounced on the balls of his feet behind her on the way to the stairs leading up to the stage—and now he didn't have time or an excuse to leave.

He was getting eager to see Angel up there, but Murdock's presence might counteract his interest.

As the last person finished her song and left the stage, B.A. settled more firmly into his chair and made himself unclench his jaw.

The spotlight caught Angel, and patrons started clapping and calling out. It was plain she was popular. Face joined their applause. Murdock got his share of calls too, including a woman who knew his name. He grinned shyly as he took the offered second microphone, but looked comfortable holding it.

So he wasn't a stranger to being up on that stage, B.A. thought. Why am I not surprised?

He didn't know what song they were going to sing, and Face didn't tell him, so he wasn't quite prepared when Angel took a breath, the people around him grew quiet, and she started.

The music—a piano—came in after her first word. B.A. was impressed with the professionalism of the technicians; it would be hard to coordinate something like that, and they made it seem easy. The audience seemed to hold its breath as she sang the opening with just the piano.

Then the backup—Murdock—interspersed her vocals and the spectators got a little louder, and when the full band broke in, the place erupted.

Face howled with the rest of them, and for a moment B.A. sat stunned. Never mind that Angel had a huge vocal range and was easily singing the lead _male _part, never mind that Murdock was channeling his inner castrato to harmonize _above _Angel's lead—they were fabulous and enjoying every second of it.

B.A. suddenly couldn't stop grinning.

He'd never thought of "Don't Stop Me Now" as something Angel would get into; then again, he never thought of karaoke at all, so what did he know. It was obvious why Murdock wanted to jump into the song, with lyrics about defying gravity, burning through the sky, and being out of control. Angel apparently liked it because, B.A. realized, it fit her so right.

She was just like that. Don't stop her, she's having a good time. She don't want to stop at all . . . he couldn't have picked a more appropriate song for her if he tried.

The two of them did the entire song in synch, like they'd practiced it forever. Even at the end of the piece, Murdock knew just when to quit, and let the song wind down with just Angel and the piano fading away.

The audience clapped and shouted as Angel grabbed Murdock's waist and the two bowed together. They were both laughing, and B.A. didn't remember when her eyes shone so bright before.

They hurried off the stage and made their way back to the table while people congratulated them and patted them on the back. Both B.A. and Face stood up as they got back.

"That was amazing!" Face exclaimed, pulling both of them in, one with each arm. He kissed Angel's cheek, and B.A. couldn't be sure, but he may have pressed a kiss on Murdock too.

Angel spun away and B.A. caught her. Her eyes were still shining. "Wow, baby. I mean, just . . . wow."

She laughed at his wordlessness and squeezed him. "Thanks! It was so much fun! Murdock, I'm so glad you came up there with me! Now I'm thirsty."

Like those were magic words, a waitress brought another round over for the group.

"On the house," she said over the din of the next person starting on stage. She winked at Face.

He winked back, and told her to tell Sunny thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

The waitress scurried away, and the group settled back down. There was much more joking and laughing now, and more enthusiastic cheering for the other people participating in the singing. Their adrenaline high lasted a long time.

Finally Angel took another gulp of her drink—she'd switched over to iced tea, like Murdock, by that point—and said, "I'm on deck again. And I need a volunteer to help me up on stage."

As good as he was feeling, B.A. immediately shook his head. "Ain't no way I'm getting up on that stage, baby."

But she wasn't looking at him. Face realized her semi-request was directed at him.

"Oh, hey. I'm no good up there, you know that, Angel."

Murdock watched the scene: Face declining, Angel looking expectant, and B.A. slowly becoming conscious that Angel wasn't asking him, and maybe that was a little weird. Before Face could suggest it, Murdock said with blatant fakeness in his voice,

"I don't think I'm up for another go."

That seemed to settle it for Angel. She continued to ignore B.A. and walked around to Face's chair. She held a hand out to him and tapped her foot. With a resigned sigh, Face took her hand and allowed her to lead him to the stairs.

"Hey—wait a minute!" B.A. called after them. "What—?"

He didn't seem quite sure how he should be reacting to his girlfriend not wanting him to join her. Murdock smothered a giggle at his perplexed confusion by fishing the lemon slice out of his tea and shoving it in his mouth.

The last singer left the stage, and it went black. It took everyone's eyes a moment to adjust to the even darker area now, but from the sound of high heels above the conversations around them, B.A. could tell Angel walked out on stage and set something down with a thump. Then there were more footsteps, Face's dress shoes, maybe?, and a slight fumbling of the microphone.

Finally a few accent lights in red came up behind the stage, and the spotlight winked on. Face was seated on a chair on the stage. It was difficult to find a casual position on a straight-backed chair; too loose and he would be sprawling, too upright and he would look tense. He opted for a slight relaxation of his legs with his ankles hooked together. His hands rested lightly on his knees, although he smiled and waved as women and men in the audience cat-called to him.

He didn't have much time to be uncomfortable, however. Another piano riff began, then brass and drums joined in a dirty, rockabilly style.

A second spotlight hit Angel, standing closer to the other side of the small stage. Because she sang with such a low voice in the first number, it didn't surprise B.A. that her voice was deep and throaty for this one too. But this song was written for a woman, and the lyrics were both more and less appropriate for her and Face up on stage.

_The man is tall, bad, mean_

_And good-lookin' . . ._

_When he looks at me_

_I grow weak in the knees . . ._

As she sang, Angel sauntered across the stage. The spotlight followed her, and by the time she made it to Face, it was like there was only one light on them.

Face had obviously been told he didn't need to sing, he just needed to sit there and look pretty. With her slinking to him and now around him, however, he shifted on his seat, trying to act like he was detached but not quite convincing anyone that he was.

_He's my big bad handsome man_

_He's got me in the palm of his hand . . ._

_He's the devil divine_

_I'm so glad that he's mine . . ._

With the next verse, it wasn't any less sultry; Angel may have actually increased the average temperature in the room. She stood over Face as she sang, running her hand over his shoulders and down his chest.

Her voice grew husky and captivated the audience beyond the lights as well as her audience on the stage. Face visibly swallowed as she leaned down and her hair brushed him.

Enthralled like everyone else, Murdock somehow became aware that B.A. was _not_ agreeing this was a great act. The air around the black man almost shimmered with anger, and that was never a good thing. It usually preceded something or someone being broken.

Murdock swallowed too, almost in time with Face, and slid into the conman's vacant seat.

Risking his own safety, he grabbed B.A.'s upper arm and squeezed it.

As he expected, B.A. whipped his attention to him.

"Bosco—knock it off! Calm down, muchacho!"

"Shut up fool! Can't you see—"

Murdock took an even bigger risk than touching him; he interrupted. "Can't _you _see? Look at her, Bosco!"

B.A. growled and tried to jerk away.

"No! Really look at Angel!" he insisted, digging his fingers into the large bicep. Maybe pain would cut through the wrath. "She's not singing to Faceman, Bosco—_she's singing to you!"_

The hissed assertion pulled B.A. up short. Once he could concentrate on her instead of the entire scene, and now that Murdock mentioned it, Angel did seem to be directing her gaze out to their table instead of down at the ensnared man below her.

No one else seemed to recognize it . . . damn Murdock for being so damn with it!

And bless him too.

Murdock relaxed his grip as B.A. relaxed beside him.

Angel and Face, oblivious to the ruckus their performance was causing at their table, finished the song to thunderous applause once again. The spotlight went out, then came back on. Face looked slightly flustered and somehow sweaty; Angel smiled beautifully as if she didn't know the affect she'd had on him or anyone else.

She forced him to bow as she waved and blew a kiss, and she kept her hand on his elbow to guide him off the stage.


	5. Chapter 5

Face actually made it back to the table first, since Angel was detained by people congratulating her again. He was still looking befuddled when he got back to the table, but in true conman style, eased his way out of it as if he was completely in control and was in on it all along. He accepted Murdock's hug and stumbled a little when B.A. clapped him hard on the back.

"Good job, man," the black man said. "I don't know how you did it."

"Me either," he said with a little laugh. He watched B.A. carefully. "You know I didn't have anything to do with that, right?"

"I know, I know. It was all Angel . . ."

"Yeah," Face replied. His laugh was a little stronger this time. "Something, huh?"

"Something, all right."

Angel finally found them again. She smiled at all of them, and without invitation, drank everything that was left in everyone's glasses.

"There! That's a little bit better!" she announced as she drained her own glass last.

B.A. caught her and pulled her into his lap. He moved her to be close to her ear, but before he could say anything, she started with,

"That was okay, wasn't it? I'm sorry, I should have told you—"

He was surprised at the regret and worry in her voice, and shushed her.

"It was fine, baby. Unexpected! But fine," he whispered.

Angel pulled back to look him directly in the eye. B.A. lifted his eyebrows, and she smiled and hugged him.

"Better than fine," he continued cheekily into her hair. "Why didn't you ever tell me that maybe you needed to practice somethin' like that little number? I'd have helped you out . . ."

He felt her grin against his neck. "It would be nice to have something besides an empty chair to seduce," she told him.

He pinched her lightly, which made her jump and squeak with laughter.

Their two companions tried not to watch the exchange between the couple, but it was much more interesting than the last person on stage. When Angel and B.A. finally disengaged a little from each other, Face said,

"Let's think about getting out of here. No offense, B.A., but being part of Angel's little burlesque number means one: I'm a little horny; two: no woman is going to be receptive to me tonight since everyone thinks Angel's all over me; and three: it may not dissuade Sunny, and again, because of Angel, I don't feel like guy-on-guy tonight."

B.A. grimaced slightly, but didn't feel like telling Face he was pushing that joke a little too far. Murdock nodded in sympathy to his friend, and Angel apologized. Everything was waved off, and the group settled up their tab and left.

B.A. kept Angel held tightly by the waist as they made their way to the van. Murdock and Angel were talking about trying to get Kerry to visit, maybe she'd like to come along some time too; Murdock didn't know. Tonight wasn't too bad, B.A. thought. He could probably handle doing it again.

Maybe he'd even dress a little nicer next time.

_fin._

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><p>Notes: "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen; "Big Bad Handsome Man" by Imelda May. Only partial lyrics here, due to site regulations. Google the video for the complete version, natch. It's awesome.<p> 


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